The Lingerie Store
by Kolinshar Benito
Summary: Haruhi is being paid to touch female underwear. What's Kyouya's excuse?
1. Prologue

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Two identical somber faces greeted the remaining male members of the Ouran High Host Club later that evening, nearly an hour after Fujioka Haruhi had left earlier than usual for the third time that week. The ceiling high doors to the room cracked open to allow the twin figures passage to the domain their talents helped run, but there was something different about their approach this time. The lack of miscellaneous banter that usually began to fill the room when the twins entered was missing, leaving a strange quiet in the large room that seemed to yearn for their voices to fill a void. As they walked toward their school mates, their unusual silence made the other members glance back to look toward the two discontented brothers. Haninozuka Mitsukuni tilted his head at their odd behavior and began to approach the two, his cornflower blue eyes wide with slight interest at the fact that their silence was causing such discomfort. Mori carefully put down the pink, upholstered chair he was stacking upon another and carefully watched his charge.

Canary yellow velvet curtains were drawn back to expose the large music room's holy grandeur to the canvas of colours painting the sky with summer pastels. This small artistic touch was lost on the artistically educated sons of the wealthy as their self proclaimed king approached the Hitachiins with a curious gleam in his eyes. Kyouya sat within hearing distance of the group, his slender fingers caressing his Pineapple powerbook as he assessed the coming weeks monetary funds, paying little attention to subtle commotion the twins were causing within their club.

And despite all their repeated exposure to the twins' uncanny observations, their next words surprised them all.

"Haruhi is wearing something _unusual_," glowered one of the pair, as an unfamiliar spark alight within his eyes.

At the simple mention of Haruhi's name, Tamaki Suoh was instantly held in rapt audience. 

"Unusual? Why, our dearest daughter is honor bound to hold all semblance to 'normalcy' as she is our beloved 'normal type.'"

The calmer of the twins added his own two cents. "It's strange because it's _red_."

Kaoru's voice lifted deviously as he mentioned the word, savoring its syllable. 

And with that, Tamaki's eyes opened in clear wonder as his mind ran off to a world unknown, his mind innocently blind to the twist the twin placed on the color. "Red? The color of passion? Love? Sweet romance? My dearest Haruhi has discovered a beautiful color! That's not unusual at all! My darling daughter has found a place in her peasant world for a royal color! Rouge is a tint held in only the most aromatic of flowers, among the most famous a single crimson rose!" With that, a sporadic tangle of words began to flow from his mouth in almost a loving caress, before he was halted mid-word with Hikaru's next statement.

"It was a lacy red La Perla A34 brassier."

"And it was _padded_," Kaoru inserted, with the return of their trademarked leery grins replacing their previous somber visages.

Hikaru gleefully continued. "_And _she was wearing the entire set. With the matching _thong_."

With that, Tamaki Suoh gaped mid-word, held his breath, and with a startled opened eyed glance around the room, promptly collapsed on the ground, twitching ever so slightly. No one noticed the small drop of blood that hovered within his nose, threatening to become a full fledged nosebleed. 

Hunni and Mori were lost in the simple feminine language of the designer bred children until one of the twins uttered the word "thong". They were considerably silent as they did not truly understand the impact such undergarments on their female companion were having upon the rest of their friends.

A pair of twin lenses gleamed in the early evening sunset, as his ears carefully picked up on their conversation. But at the mention of the Italian branded undergarment set, a certain pounding rhythm had instead filled his senses.

Kyouya's finger slipped as he was typing a letter of formal request to his brother's company and because of his unusual mistake, spelled a word incorrectly. A thin red underline appeared in the Word document under the letters spelling '_bra_--ther.' _Brother_. He had meant to type _brother_. Kyoya Ootori swallowed harder than he would have liked to admit, as an unwanted image bombarded his mind, pushing back all restraints of mental self control he usually had in place while he was doing his work.

As his imagination began to run away, he found himself being remarkably constrained in his nether regions as visions of red lacy undergarments being unclasped by his deft, well manicured fingers filled his vision. Which grew further into a scenario of chocolate coloured hair being splayed haphazardly on his blue silk covered pillows as said clothing made its way onto his bedroom floor. His fingers then gently slid down the dip between her breasts as they traced a feather light line all the way down to the brilliantly colored thong covering her -- 

It was Tamaki's whine that startled him out of his unexpected fantasy, as Kyouya found his throat quite dry due to a vision of a certain brunette beauty -- naked in his bed.

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**End prologue.**


	2. Chapter 1

For all his wealth, the only thing Ootori Kyouya was self indulgent in was in relation to fabrics. While he was a designer brand whore, much to his everlasting denial, it was compelling inner need that required him to wear overpriced designer goods. Burberry, Lacoste, Hugo Boss, and Gucci menswear, among the many others, only made a small dent in his family fortune in comparison to what he loved to lavish himself in. What he _truly_ invested heavily in was a much more private pleasure.

Bedsheets.

If there was one thing in this world that Kyouya truly loved besides money, it was sleeping. Voted as _Most Likely to Sleep Like the Dead_ by his kindergarten graduating class, it was most likely due to antics of falling asleep on the school's plush playroom floor, against walls, behind bookshelves, nestled between a number of stuffed animals, and whenever the opportunity rose, upon his sensei's large bosom.

Yes, Kyouya loved succumbing to the darkness of rest and relaxation -- and more importantly, absolutely _hated_ being wakened from such slumbers. He would willingly wake up if there was an early morning business meeting, or some school event that needed his expertise, but if woken against his will, he would either debate within his groggy head to let them suffer his horrifying wrath, or simply roll over and ignore the ignoramus who dared to disturb his sleep, leaving them to contemplate their actions after giving them a dark, piercing stare.

One reason Kyouya truly loved his sleep was due to the fact that he rarely dreamed -- or if he did, he very rarely ever remembered what happened. It was great relief to him that he would be blessed with some time to himself to wretch himself away from a selfish world that simply loved to pick at his life and continuously test him. Sleep was a blankness he yearned for most days in his hectic, but greatly lethargic life as the third in line to his father's company. Nothing that had survival instincts dared to disturb him during this time. Absolutely nothing.

Which is why Ootori Kyouya made his favorite past time as luxurious as possible by investing in incredibly overworked (not to mention overpriced) custom made bedsheets.

Take for example his _twenty thousand_ thread count gold Indian silk bed set, complete with thirty three complementary colored throw pillows in deep hues of violet, green, orange, and red.

Kyouya always did like his... pillows.

Soft, plump, downy filled... pillows...

Tiredly, Kyouya yawned widely as he slipped into creme coloured Roberto Cavalli silk boxers, placed his glasses on his nightstand, crawled into his four poster, Californian redwood king sized bed, and fell into a peaceful slumber.

Or rather, he _expected _to crawl into his covers and fall into a peaceful sleep.

And he would have, if it weren't for the fact that Fujioka Haruhi was spread out on his twenty thousand thread count gold Indian silk sheets in nothing but lacy red La Perla underwear, with her sultry chocolate eyes batting heavily at him as blood flow diverted itself from his brain to his lower extremities.

His heart beat began to increase rapidly, and something in him snapped when she began to crawl toward him. Kyouya suddenly found it hard to breathe. She leaned forward and pressed her supple skin against his chest, before whispering his name into his ear. "_Kyouya." _With his next intake of labored breath, Kyouya would never again doubt the part oxygen played in allowing him to live.

Then she wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her entire body against his front, she said softly in his other ear, "I _need _you." Then suddenly, the need for oxygen was the last thing on his mind.

In slight stupor, he let himself be led onto his bed and comfortably lay down, his head raised slightly on his pillows. Haruhi carefully slipped her leg over his body and Kyouya closed his eyes as an unfamiliar heat flooded his nether regions.

With Haruhi straddling his stomach, he sighed in pleasure as she littered butterfly kisses on his forehead and proceeded to make her way downward, lingering a little longer and pressing a little harder on his lips, before caressing her soft lips upon his chin and suckling sweetly on his neck. Each touch was as light as a feather. A strange warmth spread throughout his body with every soft press, and something within him yearned for more friction.

His own hands gripped at her hips, fingers spanning her bare thighs, caressing the soft, milky skin with no hesitation. He released his hold, running his hands up and down her back, reaching for the clasp that would make her own overpriced Italian brand name underwear become nothing more than a scrap of buttery material at the foot of his king sized bed.

His eyes soaked up the lithe goddess straddling his waist. "You look _delicious_."

His lips went forward to pepper kisses on her neck, upon her collar bone, within the hollow of her breasts. He fought to force back the groan of simple _need_ barreling through his chest. "You even _taste _delicious."

His sense of smell was overcome with the scent of cherries and chocolate. "And you _smell_ absolutely devastating..."

He heard her whimper against his ministrations, "Kyouya... _I need you_." A bolt of excitement rocketed through him.

Trembling slightly, he reached for the metal hooks at the back, and the taut fabric against her tender skin went limp--

"_AIIIEEEEE! KYOUYA-KUN! YOU __**GROPED **__ME!"_

That was unexpected._  
_

Blearily, Kyoya opened his eyes to find a blurred vision of his _**sister**__, Fuyumi,_ with an absolutely horrified expression on her face. All sense of sleepiness left him immediately as a similar expression covered his normally pleasant looking face as he realized where his hand had just been previously placed.

"_ONEE-SAN. I APOLOGIZE." _His voice came out rushed and panicked, mainly due to the fact that the blood flow to one of his _external _organs had not yet ceased. He quickly bunched a majority of his sheets around his waist to hide its effect.

"I had **no** idea what I was doing." He spluttered up, frantic and still not aware of his surroundings, but still struggling to maintain a decent profile. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing. I-- I was dreaming."

Characteristically, his sister calmed down immediately, surprised at this sudden revelation, and rather, more shocked at his uncharacteristic confession.

"You were... dreaming?" A contemplative expression came over her. "I thought you never remembered your dreams." The inner psychology course she had received in college was baring its head.

The throbbing ache between his legs that had begun to lessen since he found out he had fondled his _sister_ instead of... Ugh. Of all the dreams could have possibly kept alive in his memory, it had to be this one. But what was with his sudden fascination with Fujioka?! He forced saliva down his dry throat as her underwear clad body appeared in his mind. His "problem" had come back in full force at the brief reminder of his dream.

"This dream, I think, was-- special," he replied, cursing himself silently for initiating the conversation.

"Really? What were you doing?" _Attempting to grope my classmate, _he thought as he body burned with a silent ache.

"Were you trying to catch the stars, Kyouya-kun?" A glassy eyed expression look came over her face before she asked her question. "Is that why you were reaching above your body? Because stars mean all sorts of things when it comes to dreaming about them."

Her face and her _body _came and overwhelmed his mind once more. He winced inwardly, struggling to mentally divert more blood flow to his brain.

"No, onee-san. I... was picking fruit in this dream." _That should explain the reaching forward part_, he thought.

"Oh. Were they oranges?"

Kyouya smirked.

"No, not oranges. Cherries."

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_"It was a lacy red La Perla A34 brassier."_

_"And it was _padded_," Kaoru inserted, with the return of their trademarked leery grins replacing their previous somber visages._

_Hikaru gleefully continued. "_And _she was wearing the entire set. With the matching _thong_."_

_With that, Tamaki Suoh gaped mid-word, held his breath, and with a startled open eyed glance around the room, promptly collapsed on the ground, twitching ever so slightly. No one noticed the small drop of blood that hovered within his nostril, threatening to become a full fledged nosebleed._

_Kyouya himself was at a loss for how to remove this thoroughly disturbing picture out of his mind. No, it was not _disturbing_ -- what was he thinking? If anything, it was... welcome. Welcome in all its naked glory._

_With emphasis on the naked._

What_ was wrong with him? He gave himself a good mental shake. He felt... attraction toward Fujioka Haruji, but it had never before exceeded simple thoughts of her being amazingly pretty despite the lack of effort on her part. _

_His thoughts wandered back to his earlier image of running a hand gently down her petite body before coming to rest upon a hidden treasur--_

_**No.**_

_This was Fujioka Haruhi, a common woman whose simplicity shadowed a great depth in her personality. She was a person who had wheedled her way into his inner circle without surprising resistance. In all truth, he had more or less encouraged it. For so long it has only been the Host Club, with its members that would come into considerable power and with whom he had future endeavors planned mentally with. And then, it slowly included a single female with a narrow-minded aspiration to become a woman of law. She could possibly be of benefit in the future, but really, he had more or less come to admire her perseverance and determination, demonstrated with the simple loyalty she displayed by trying to pay off a debt that he could have easily written off -- had he not been feeling particularly sadistic the afternoon she had wandered within their domain. _

_But had she not walked in that day, she would most likely not have become his sudden private fantasy. He shook his head. No, he thought. That was just one strange... thought. Nothing more._

_Because Kyouya did _not_ give in to such desires -- it was simply not done. He could admire her, he tried to convinced himself. That was simple enough. He could admire her amazingly talented mind. He could admire the way she could leave even the twins speechless. He could admire the way she captivated the educated, prestigious, and wealthy Tamaki Suoh with her everyday, normal, commoner actions. He could admire her... amazingly small breasts which despite their lack of mass, had a greater appeal on him than a larger cup size..._

_Kyouya stopped and mentally scratched his head harshly at his realization. Never before had he been sexually attracted to a school mate. He had been living perfectly fine with mostly platonic feelings toward the opposite gender within his age range for most his life. _

_Kyouya determined that the last time both Haruhi and him had been in the same room together -- alone -- there had been a moment where both of them had been in a horizontal position on the bed and a frustrated spark of... _something_... had ignited between the both of them. He found his body getting tense from just the thought of it._

_Ah. That was it. He had just identified the very event that had sparked an interest in her that he didn't realize he had_ _buried in his subconscious._

_And Kyouya suddenly accepted the fact that he wanted her for not so innocent reasons. _

_But how the hell did the casual mention of Haruhi in red undergarments get him so fired up?_

_The twins' conversation grabbed his attention once more._

_"But you know, Kaoru... how do you think Haruhi afforded to buy _La Perla_? It's not commoner lingerie -- or anywhere _near_ 'Haruhi-priced.'" Hikaru's contemplative, and accurate, question punctured all the Host Club members' thoughts._

_"It's more 'our mother-priced', that's for sure!"_

_Kyouya only had a very vague idea of the size of the twins' mother's closet. Let alone the _worth_ of some of the articles within it._

_"Forget about that, Kaoru!" Tamaki suddenly burst forward off the floor where he had collapsed, and seemingly grew three feet in height as he towered over the twins in an angry vengeance. "HOW DARE YOU PEEPING TOMS COME AND TELL US OF YOUR ESCAPADES! PEEKING ON CHANGING WOMEN! I WILL NOT CONDONE THIS! ESPECIALLY THIS-- THIS-- __**PEEPING **__ON OUR DAUGHTER!" he screeched. "DOES YOUR SHAME HOLD NO BOUNDS?!"_

_Hikaru looked positively offended at his outburst. "Tono, give us some credit. We're not peeping toms."_

_Kaoru nodded vigorously. "If anything, we're peeping _twins_. But that's besides the point. We didn't peep on Haruhi, Tono."_

_Hikaru gave his brother a stare that suggested that statement was only a half-truth. _

_"We found a bag full of clothing and books we didn't recognize and showed it to Haruhi. She said it was hers."_

_Tamaki sudden height deflated in size quickly._

_"And inside-" __Hikaru started. _

_Kaoura continued, "There was a set of the Lover's Special La Perla Aqua set nestled between her biology textbook-"_

_"And her diary-"_

_"Which we did _not _read, for the record." A Cheshire-like grin spread across the two identical faces._

_"No, not at all," the other twin chorused. Kyouya eyed the two skeptically._

_"And as we _are_ the heirs to a designer's entire world," they stated very matter-a-fact, and with unusual seriousness. "Trust us on the simple fact that we can recognize a competitor product when we see one."_

_"It only helped that Haruhi was wearing a nice white blouse at the time," the wilder of the twins added nonchalantly._

_"And _through_ it, we could... _observe_ the fact that the Rouge counterpart to the set was nicely covering..."_

_"...her lovely lady lumps?" Hikaru offered. With that statement, the twins chortled in an eerie mirror to one another._

_"Lady lumps?" Hunni pondered the strange phrase aloud._

_"It's a line from a song," Kyouya answered quickly with no further explanation._

_"But that brings us back to our original statement," the Hitachiins declared together, both donning Sherlock Holm-esque hats and pulling a set of magnifying glasses from seemingly nowhere. "We have been discussing how she could afford this set -- which, might I add, is part of the new fall line up from La Perla. Which means it is in limited supply, not to mention the fact that it is being sold in only exclusive areas. And because of this, we have come up with only one logical explanation." _

_Tamaki's wide eyes were absorbing their every word and movement._

_The pair synchronously whirled around, and two identical faces conspiratorially proclaimed, "Haruhi... has a _boyfriend_."_

_Tamaki suddenly choked at their proclamation. A whimper and small cry of denial came from the self proclaimed king._

_Hikaru quickly rejected Tamaki's weak cry. "She must have one. A rich one at that!" A decidedly dangerous look appeared on his face. "She's not around as much lately. We know. We keep asking her to play with us. And we also know it's probably because of _him._"_

_Kaoru had the same dark expression himself, but nodded aggressively. "That's how she's getting this type of underwear. And have you _seen_ her hair lately? It's simply gleaming with products she would never normally use. Let alone buy. Someone is spoiling her -- and it's not us!"_

_"And that's why she's been leaving the club earlier for the past while! To secretly meet up with her boyfriend, who is lavishing--_

_"Not to mention ravishing--"_

_"-- our beloved!" The twins finished angrily, their faces darkening with a color that fiercly matched their hair._

_Kyouya scoffed and narrowed his eyes. "Haruhi doesn't have time for a boyfriend."_

_Kaoru's slightly murderous expression disappeared with his simple grin as he wagged a finger at the club finance manager. "Haruhi doesn't have time for the Host Club either, but she's always here, isn't she? Take a seat, my dear friends, and let us show you our evidence."_

_"You mean, _'your speculations.'_" Kyouya corrected offhand. The twins ignored him and pulled on a yellow rope cord that had _not_ been hanging from the ceiling the previous hour. This action promptly lifted a white curtained from a stage which also had not been previously there the last time Kyouya looked. _

_A brown corduroy cape -- again, that Kyouya was _sure _hadn't been on the twin a moment ago -- whirled around Kaoru dramatically. The four remaining members took seats in the chairs Mori had failed to stack accordingly a little while earlier, and all of them were genuinely surprised at the three sided presenter board set up before them, appearing as the virgin coloured curtain was raised. _

_The left panel of the board clearly detailed Haruhi's class schedule, where and with whom she ate lunch with, her usual homework course load, and the daily comings and goings within her life with stalker-like attention to detail. In the middle panel was Haruhi's school picture in a large circle, with six other smaller pictures of males they all recognized wearing the Ouran High uniform. A number of arrows pointed from Haruhi to the males, and from the males to other males to emphasize their connection. Kyouya was slightly impressed._

_"Hika-kun, what is this?" Hunni asked, a puzzled expression coming over his face as his tilted his head sideways, and at such an degree that it touched his shoulder, in his effort to understand the poster in front of him. Mori gently straightened his head._

_"Why, Hunni-sempai, we are _so _glad you asked! Now, allow us to explain."_

_---------------------------------------------_

He grabbed his glasses and the blurry outlines of the world suddenly solidified as he rested the frames comfortably on his nose. His sister had come in to request the usage of his chauffeur that morning, and then, that incident had occurred. A state of perpetual awkwardness had occurred when all either sibling could think about was the tender squeeze he had afforded his sister accidentally. Clearing his throat loudly, he announced that he had a late lunch with Tamaki later that day, but would be willing to drop off his sister at whichever store she deemed necessary to raid. With a quick smile, Fuyumi quickly dismissed herself, and reminded her brother that they would be leaving in half an hour.

His patented smile dropped quickly into a thin pressed line as he shut his bedroom door behind his sister. _Wretched woman, interrupting my sleep..._

He walked toward his bathroom intent of relieving himself from that night's frustrations.

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_"So those are all the men you believe Haruhi could be dating? Well, we need to put an end to this once and for all. We're going to tell all of them Haruhi is off limits. Kyouya, contact your mobile squad. Our daughter is simply too young to have a boyfriend. Right, mommy?" _

Tamaki's voice from Friday evening's meeting echoed through his mind, his thoughts drifting as he stared out the vehicle's window.

_Was it wrong that he, Haruhi's "mother", was __**lusting**__ after his... "daughter"?_

His sister carefully stepped into his car after him, and directed the chauffeur to drive them to Century Hill, a strip mall that required its patrons to have a credit card without a limit if they wished to shop there.

A sidelong glance toward his sister allowed him to observe her as she began to fidget with her cell phone, her fingers pressing rapidly at the keys as she T9ed a text message.

_Well, technically he _**wasn't**_ her mother._

His contemplations led him to only vaguely acknowledge the passing scenery.

_But still. If anything happened, it's not like it would be _**incest.**

He passed another look to his own sister, and inwardly winced at that morning's strange event.

He was being ridiculous. Of course she wasn't his daughter. And in the very minimal chance that something did happen between them, incest was not even close to the word that could even vaguely describe a relationship between the two.

The four-door silver Mercedes Benz began to slow down as it entered the shopping district.

His thoughts once again drifted to yesterday's strange conversation.

But his eyes suddenly caught sight of a familiar head of chocolate coloured hair in passing, and tracked her entering the very store most men dreaded being caught alone in.

He read the gilded lettering above the glass entry way.

_The Lingerie Store_

Kyouya was feeling decidedly parched despite all this forced swallowing he was doing.

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While the question of why Haruhi was even _in _such a place did cross his mind, what confused him even more was the fact that she was in the most expensive strip mall in a five hundred kilometer radius, when Weekend Sale prices at her local commoner shopping mall still made her second guess purchases she was buying.

Maybe the twins were right.

Maybe she _did_ have a boyfriend. And she was going shopping. On his... credit card.

_No, no, **no.**_ He refused to believe that.

But Kyouya was now intrigued. He had always liked mysteries.

And Kyouya had every intention of satisfying his curiosity.

His barking voice startled the other occupants in his car as he gave out a new set of instructions. He told his driver to find a parking space, and both sister and chauffeur gave him looks of astonishment as he stepped out of the vehicle after Fuyumi and told his hired help to wait in the Driver's Lounge.

Because Kyouya had suddenly come to the conclusion that if Curiosity really did kill the Cat, Curiosity must have looked great in a French Maid uniform.

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**End chapter 1.**

_"my lovely lady lumps" is from My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas. Don't ask why I felt compelled to include that in there.  
_

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**Insert stolen disclaimer here.**

A/N: Wow, everyone, I just want to say thank you for reading through that very elementary prologue and thank especially those who reviewed. Did you know I got four reviews in the first forty minutes the prologue was released? I've been on this site a long time, and I don't think I've ever gotten reviews that fast. You guys really did make my morning, really.

Thanks to: Lacoma, Zanisha, Flipgirl219, Pa0pu, Kichou, xoiHeartMiloox, CultKagome and Sesshoumaru, -animedarku-, Rangerette, Maiden-Chan, guiltshow, and EmpressMegami for your _signed _reviews.


	3. Chapter 2

**This chapter requires the reader to be familiar with the events from Episode 8 of Ouran High Host Club. But if you aren't, no worries. It'll be explained later anyway.  
**

**Also note, italicized sections are either background information from the past that will come into play later in the story, or character thoughts.**_  
_

* * *

_St. Patrick's General Hospital was located in a very enclosed residential area. On all four sides of the building were student housing complexes and small food businesses that catered to their needs. It wasn't very large or grand. The hospital was a single building by itself and very much resembled an apartment or condominium complex. The street before it was narrow, dirty, and filled with small cars and scooter motorcycles. There was only one road leading to the hospital, and one leading away from it. An emergency lane was ineffective, but the residents and shop owners of the area knew this, and had grown used to the speediness and reckless driving of the ambulance drivers in their rush to try and save lives. _

_It was at St. Patrick's where Ootori Yoshio had began his first job out of university. Graduating from high school, he had pursued a career as a Medical Technician and Engineer. The details of his occupation required him to be knowledgeable in almost every medical technology stored there, and know how to fix the machinery when something went wrong. With this opportunity, he had created a number of additional gadgets and accessories that improved and modified delicate equipment, increasing its efficiency. The number of patents he had gained in the first year alone propelled him into the world of medical technology, and that year was the first block he had used to build the monopolizing empire he owned today._

_Ootori Yoshio's office was located on the main floor. It had been his first one, but certainly not his last. It was small in size, sparsely furnished, and dreary in colour -- fitting for a hospital setting, but not for such an extravagantly spending man. What gave the small setting authority, however, were the numerous awards, certificates, and plaques displayed in three shelving units, and placed along the wall, alternating in size._

_On the desk was a picture of Yoshio with his three sons. There was not a trace of feminine influence within the office. No flowers or bright curtains. Yoshio's wife and daughter had no place on his desk, or on his wall, or within this room._

_Kyouya himself might have been surprised to know that there _was_ a picture of himself within his father's office._

_But Kyouya had never visited his father at his work._

_Ever._

---------------------------------------------

The first thing Ootori Kyouya did as he exited the air-conditioned parking lot and stepped onto the wide, sun-kissed sidewalk was to flip open his cell phone and hit speed dial number two.

His call was answered halfway through the first ring.

_"Kyouya-kun!"_

He closed his eyes in concentration, mentally preparing himself for the chance of a suicidally long phone call.

"Hello, Tamaki. I just called to let you know I might be delayed for our lunch meeting."

_"Oh, well, that's no problem. I'm not too far away from the restaurant, but I don't mind waiting. For how long, do you think?"_

He lied through his teeth.

"Well, my sister requested that I accompany her to choose a gift for our parents' wedding anniversary."

He watched as Fuyumi waved goodbye to him as she entered a shoe store, then turned her head to smile courteously at the man who had opened the door for her. A warm feeling filtered through him at the gesture.

_"Oh! How thoughtful! What were you two thinking of getting for them?" _Tamaki's thrilled voice began to list a number of possible items Kyouya would never have even considered _touching_.

Kyouya continued to walk down the sidewalk, passing a number of stores without as much as a glance. A man in a brown, calfskin coat did catch his attention quickly, before his eyes looked away to focus on a certain set of glass doors a few meters away. It was a store that hopefully would have answers still in stock.

"Thank you for your suggestions," Kyouya harshly interrupted. "Well, I don't have anything particular in mind yet, but my sister said she had the _perfect_ gift in mind."

Kyouya found himself standing underneath a set of letters metal plated in a copper finish.

_"Oh, do you know what it is yet?"_

Kyouya reached for the vertical, metal handle of the door.

"No, but I intend to find out."

"Oh, what mystery! Kyouya, there--"

"I'll talk to you later, Tamaki."

He heard a quick _"Hold on, Kyouya--!" _and promptly hit the end button.

After his first step within the store, the smell of chocolate and cherries assaulted his senses.

-----------------------------------------

A dark haired man carefully watched Kyouya enter _The Lingerie Store_ with bewildered eyes, but pushed his questions to the back of his mind as his cell phone vibrated. He took the small device out of his brown leather coat and answered.

He listened carefully to the callers inquires, blinking expressionlessly behind dark tinted sunglasses.

"Yes, sir. The target's location has been confirmed."

--------------------------------------------

It was the first time Ootori Kyouya had ever entered such a place.

Kyouya prided himself on his resourcefulness and his ability to adapt to new scenarios. When thrust in a situation he had never previously found himself in, he knew how to keep a cool head and when to play his cards at the right time.

Even if it meant bluffing.

Which is why Kyouya was uncertain as to why he suddenly felt _very_ uncomfortable in his current surroundings.

One of the attendants immediately noticed his entry and made her way toward him, giving him a small bow, and Kyouya noticed as she was rising that she had a very noticeably white smile.

"Welcome, sir." Her large brown eyes blinked up at him owlishly. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

Her unruly russet coloured locks were cut in a similar fashion to Haruhi's. Her black, formfitting shirt was free from the awkward designs found on so many casual shirts these days. A pair of tan coloured pants completed her work uniform.

But as it was, he played the game the only way he knew how.

"No, but thank you..." Kyouya glanced quickly at her name tag. "...Shizuka-san. I was simply browsing."

Kyouya was astounded by how _bright_ her teeth truly were. They gleamed unnaturally in the store's florescent lighting.

"Well, of course, sir." Her teeth flashed at him. "If you are browsing for you wife or girlfriend, I'd be more than happy to help you," the saleswoman stated, her illuminating grin becoming slightly eerie.

Kyouya paused at the offer. A wicked smirk playing on his features.

"Actually, miss, maybe you _can_ help me. Could I possibly see your _La Perla_ collection for this season?"

Kyouya was more than surprised to see her already wide smile lengthen at the mention of the expensive line up.

"Excellent choice, sir! Let me show you to the sales associate responsible for that section."

Kyouya held a sister smile to Shizuka's.

"Please."

"Right this way, sir."

----------------------------------------

_His cell phone rang._

_Kyouya was very particular about his ring tones. He had assigned personalized ones to almost every number he deemed important._

_Tchaikovsky filtered through the air, and his hand froze as it reflexively reached toward the flip phone._

_Slowly, he opened it, and answered._

_"We have a business party to attend to this Saturday. You are to attend, with a date."_

_"Yes, father."_

_"Bring someone appropriate."_

_His hand tightened painfully around the phone._

_"Yes, father."_

_"I expect you to act accordingly."_

_"Yes, father."_

_The phone call ended._

_-------------------------------------------_

The buildings on Century Hill were two story. Most were set up with similar configuration: female clothing occupying one floor, and the menswear occupying the other. For the occasional store that sold neither clothing or footwear, the second floor was often used as storage for additional stock. These levels were closed to the public, and few employees had access to them for fear of theft. As these stores were high class in nature, security itself matched the serious price ranges for some of these store.

It was typical that these floors were very rarely cleaned. The most cleaning the second level received was when employees removed old boxes, shuffling the dust along in the process. However, more small debris was brought back onto the floor with the arrival of new inventory.

So it was with great surprise and suspicion when Takumi, the security guard for the _Coach _boutique on Century Hill, allowed a pony-tailed man onto the second level with a case full of cleaning supplies.

The new stock _Coach _received were placed in silk lined boxes with ebony trim, and were promptly sent behind a large, steel door sealed with the Swedish Oracle vault lock.

Takumi could not shake the feeling that something was strange about this man, and proceeded to follow the stranger upstairs-- only to watch the oriental male sweep, wipe down, and very plainly clean the surrounding area.

Still, Takumi was one to trust his gut instinct. Yet, this man had shown no apparent attention toward the locked room filled with expensive merchandise. There were no lingering glances or precarious movements toward the sealed door. The store manager's voice began to call for security, and Takumi quickly hurried away, casting another suspicious look toward the male in blue overalls cleaning the window overlooking Century Street.

The cleaner cast a look of annoyance behind him, frustrated by the amount of attention the guard had paid him. Wiping his hands clean on his overalls, he slipped on a pair of calfskin gloves and flipped open the latches on a plastic case labeled _Cleaning Supplies. _Within it were neatly arranged bottles of various coloured fluids and a variety of plastic tools.

Then, he slipped his finger within a hole near the bottom of the case and lifted a panel upward to reveal a felt lined false compartment. Still silently cursing the guard for the amount of time he had wasted actually _cleaning_ this filthy place, he began pulling a number of metal objects out of the case and twisted them into place to fit each other.

-----------------------------------------

Kyouya saw her talking to another _male_ customer as he approached her. Aware that there was a new customer approaching, she quickly began to say goodbye and her eyes darted quickly toward him and grew as she realized who was approaching her. He grew sadistically amused as she did a double take.

A single thought bolted through Haruhi's mind.

_Shit._

That satisfying feeling quickly disappeared when an incomprehensible anger filled his body and his eyebrows narrowed considerably when she gave the strange man a close hug and ushered him away quickly as he approached. He looked at the other male with a blank expression, taking in the other man's well formed face and tall, lithe build. He felt grim disappointment at the fact that the other male was not physically displeasing. And not a customer. Her... _boyfriend?_

His thoughts were interrupted by Shizuka.

"Haruhi, this man needs some assistance. He's interested in the _La Perla_ line up." Shizuka turned to Kyouya. "Sir, please feel free to direct any questions you may have to Haruhi here. She'll attend to your every need."

"Of course, ma'am," Haruhi hollowly agreed, and Shizuka gave her a look that seemed as if she was surprised at Haruhi's tone.

Kyouya quickly followed Haruhi's intense stare at the word below Shizuka's name.

_Manager._

"Thank you, Shizuka-san," he added dismissively.

With a quick bow toward him, Shizuka the manager left a hungry wolf with a lone sheep.

_She'll attend to my __**every **__need, eh?_

---------------------------------------

Sitting in a black Lexus down the street, a man in the brown leather coat waited patiently for a message.

---------------------------------------

Haruhi's expression was so blank Kyouya felt that if he had painted Edvard Munch's _Scream_ character in place its place, the look of absolute horror would not express her true feelings at him simply being here.

Kyouya felt pleased at the effect his simple presence had on people.

He thought he could hear a part of her stable world come crashing down on her.

"I'm looking for something..." he started, "but I don't know _what _exactly."

"Well, sir," Haruhi gritted between clenched teeth. She forced a smile as she said, "I'd be happy to help you look for something."

Kyouya could see a vein popping harshly on her forehead.

"Hmm..."

Kyouya looked around the store, with a contemplative look on his face. Haruhi's jaw was aching from grinding her teeth so hard.

_Of all possible people to come into this store, it had to be __**him.**_ Haruhi resisted the overwhelming need to _bash _her head in frustration into the nearest wall.

The rational part of her consciousness reared its logical head.

_Kyouya-sempai wouldn't sell me out to the school though. _Taking part time jobs was forbidden at Ouran. However, he had known about the summer job she had taken last year and not a word had leaked out from any of the club members. _But I know this shadow king... He has a hidden agenda. _However, Haruhi wasn't one to be scared into blackmail easily. _I suppose he's wondering how I managed to get a job here..._

But _that_ wasn't his any of his business.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Haruhi's head.

Her saleswoman smile plastered itself to her face.

"Are you looking for underwear in particular?" she asked with faux cheerfulness.

Kyouya was surprised by her sudden change of demeanor. "Pardon me?"

"Underwear," she repeated, acting as if she was trying to hide a condescending tone. "I'm sure we can find something that will fit you." Kyouya paused and looked at Haruhi, questioning her words. He wasn't sure he was liking the way this conversation was headed.

Haruhi's body began to lose its tension as she grew into a false sense of confidence that Kyouya caught onto very easily.

Her next statement made him reevaluate his actions to put her on unease. "You have a very feminine body frame," she commented with a small smile and a challenge rose up between them that Kyouya felt the need to meet. "_Sir_," she added with a sly smile. 'I'm sure our store can fulfill whatever hobby you pursue in your free time."

Haruhi was sure she could hear his teeth grinding.

"Oh, _miss_, you must be mistaken. I'm not shopping for myself." He felt his face flow effortlessly into the mask he put on during the Host Club hours.

"I was contemplating buying a costume here for a high school club I'm a part of."

Her smile froze in place.

"If you got anything here, it wouldn't be much of a costume," she rationalized, already envisioning Tamaki dancing around the Third Music Room in circles at the simple thought of herself in lingerie.

"Oh, I beg to differ."

He shrugged suddenly, and the talk that underlied coercing herself into skimpy outfits left the conversation.

"But, alas," he started, "It seems I'm here on more of a personal venture."

"Personal venture?" _He's buying for someone else? _Haruhi stopped, surprisingly tense. "So then, you have a girlfriend?"

Kyouya pondered what she would say if he told her 'yes.'

"No."

Haruhi relaxed at his answer. Kyouya observed her actions with interest.

His next question caught the steady Haruhi off guard.

"Do you?"

She blinked widely, and looked at him clearly confused. "Do I... have a girlfriend?"

He blanched. Kyouya felt the urge to suddenly smack her.

"No, _Haruhi-san,_" he said with certain emphasis. "Do you have a... boyfriend?"

Her expression went blank.

"As a customer, _sir_, I don't think that's any of your business."

"Of course, miss." _Shit. She's either being defensive or she's just extremely annoyed. She might have a boyfriend after all. Who was that guy from earlier? _"My apologies," he said not very sincerely.

A sneaky expression made its way onto her face.

"Well, then I suppose it's for... your _mother_, correct?"

"I'm sorry?" _Could she stop randomly interjecting other trains of thought?_ he thought in frustration.

"The underwear. You're shopping for your mother."

Kyouya felt the sudden urge to gag at the horrendous image that conjured within his mind.

She wanted to play like _that_, did she?

"No. It's for my--" _Lie, lie, lie. _"--friend."

"Oh."

Haruhi suddenly couldn't get the image of Tamaki dancing around in female underwear out of her head.

But-- what if his friend was _really _female in nature...?

_She must be a friend with a lot of benefits if Kyouya-sempai is buying her underwear_, was the one thought suddenly running within her mind.

And why did she get the feeling that Kyouya was trying to get her jealous?

Haruhi's mind wandered back to a day on a beach with the Host Club. And a conversation that happened that evening with Kyouya on all fours above her, his knee thrust between her legs. _"You have nothing to gain by sleeping with me."_

He had nothing to gain by sleeping with Haruhi. But... what could this mystery woman offer to Kyouya that he would be willing to accept?

_Maybe, __**everything?**__ Connections, wealth... _Haruhi sighed.

This jealously ploy. It shouldn't have been working. It shouldn't have.

"Well, sir, follow me. Let's see what we can find for your... friend."

But maybe it was.

She proceeded to stalk away before him, with the intent of ridding him from her sight. She led them near the front of the store, just before the display window. _What am I talking about? Kyouya wouldn't even be vaguely interested in me. I'm common. And he's... not._

"Here's the only _La Perla _choices we have in stock right now, sir. The new fall Lover's collection is in five different colours."

Kyouya was forced to acknowledge that his imagination for what red _La Perla_ underwear looked like was, simply put, _lacking _in nature. And those scraps of fabric cost _how much?_

Haruhi continued in a monotonous drabble detailing the garments, and ignoring a look from him that kindly resembled a wolf that had found its prey.

"So, who was that person you hugged earlier?"

The twins' voices echoed through his head

_"And he's lavishing--"_

_"--not to mention ravishing--"_

_"--our beloved!"_

"A friend," she replied curtly.

"Just a friend?"

"Just a friend," she confirmed. He couldn't tell whether or not she was lying.

"Ah, I see." _Not really._ But time to change the subject...

"So when did you start working here?" _How did you get a job in the most posh underwear store in town? _was really the question on his mind.

She coughed.

"Does it really matter?"

"No. I suppose not. But this is why you've been leaving the club earlier, correct?"

"Are you upset?"

"Not particularly," he replied with a small shrug. "You finish all the tasks assigned to you before you leave."

"I do have a debt to pay off."

-------------------------------------------

_Their conversation that night on the beach had been the calm before the storm._

_Haruhi exited the washroom after a small bout of retching._

_"Are you done?" A familiar voice tacked onto an unfamiliar head filtered through the room._

_"I'm sorry for coming into a stranger's room," she bowed apologetically to the shirtless brunette sitting in a wicker chair._

_"How rude; it's just me."_

_Haruhi squinted in confusion._

_"Kyouya-sempai? Ah, I'm sorry," she repeated. "It seems like I've gotten everyone worried about me."_

_Grey eyes flicked towards her briefly, before taking a small sip from a bottle of water._

_"Just that, Hikaru and Kaoru were beating those pimps to death and stopping that took some effort," he lied. In truth, he had looked on at the events in silent pleasure._

_He began to walk toward her, the small breeze from the overhead fan moving bits and pieces of dried hair._

_"And... to all those girls that had come to have fun, I had to go through the trouble of preparing apology bouquets for all of them."_

_Without hesitation, Haruhi stamped down, "I'll pay for those flowers."_

_"It's 50,000 yen per bouquet per person," Kyouya stopped and faced a wall, his palm above to slider that dictated the intensity of the lights. His finger began to slide down the wall. "In total, it'll be 600,000 yen."_

_The whirring of the fan in the darkened room was interrupted by a small curious voice._

_"Why did you turn off the lights?"_

_Grey eyes met honey coloured ones._

_"You could pay for those flowers with your body, too."_

_He grabbed her, flinging her roughly on top of his bed. He forced his knees between her own, a flare of simple _want_ going through him._

_"You should fix that 'being a guy or girl doesn't matter' naivety of yours. It's your fault for being too defenseless."_

_Her eyes suddenly widened with realization._

_With confidence Kyouya didn't fathom her having, she replied calmly from beneath him. "You wouldn't do that, Kyouya-sempai... because... you have nothing to gain from sleeping with me."_

_The intensity of her stare made Kyouya suddenly feel cold._

_"Indeed," he said, sitting up. "You really are an interesting person."_

_--------------------------------------------_

_A debt, of course. It's always about fulfilling debts with you, Haruhi, _he thought.

"Of course. And I was under the impression that you were studying furiously to enter a university of your choice. Will not having an additional job take away opportunities for you to study?"

"Not as much as the Host Club already does," Haruhi stated blandly, and Kyouya inwardly flinched.

"If that's the case, why are you here then? Being here, in addition to the Host Club, eats away a lot of your spare time."

She was surprisingly forthcoming with her answer.

"My father. His... _friend_," she said with a little emphasis, "owns this establishment."

_"Really?" _Kyouya remarked with sudden interest. He began to estimate the amount of income this place generated a month.

"And he insisted I model for him."

What respect Kyouya might have had for her father's friend for owning such a successful business was promptly sucked away.

"He insisted you _model_ for him," he repeated incredulously, growing distinctly hotter that the image of Haruhi strutting around in the sheer material surrounding him. "Your _father_ allowed you to _model in underwear_ for his friend."

"His friend was gay."

"Ah." _That explains it._

"Yes." Despite that assurance that the _friend _was homosexual, Kyouya found himself becoming distinctly frustrated with a sudden burst of hot emotion.

"And then what happened?"

"He offered me a job here."

"_Why?_"

She shrugged.

"Maybe my father asked him? I don't know. The fact is, it's a job high paying enough that I'd be willing to be exposed myself publicly for. This job has great potential to backfire on me, but the amount of money... is too tempting," her eyes suddenly held a hidden gleam of uncertainty that Kyouya missed. "You never know when parents of students at Ouran might come in, and recognize who I am."

Kyouya was taken aback at the fact at how _greedy_ Haruhi seemed to suddenly be.

"How high paying is this job?"

"High enough."

"Is there commission?"

"...yes," she answered hesitantly.

Her gaze was more focussed behind him now, not paying attention to what he was saying to her.

"There's a woman waving at you." She was peering at the store window behind him.

"What?"

Kyouya turned his head to look, and found Fuyumi waving gaily. He gave his sister a sharp stare that made her freeze. He breathed deeply and waved back curtly. A renewed smile tacked itself to her lips as she moved away from the window to proceed down the street.

"Who was that?" Haruhi asked.

"My sister."

"Your older sister?"

"Yes."

Kyouya watched in amusement as her jaw dropped slightly as if she had come to a sudden realization.

"You're lingerie shopping for your sister." Haruhi stated in mild disbelief, and wondered if there was a sister complex to Ootori Kyouya that she never knew about before.

"What?! No!"

Haruhi was beginning to reach her Bullshit-O-Meter limit.

"Then _why are you here_?"

"I'm here... because..." He hesitated, before he decided to just tell her the truth. "Well, I saw you come in a little while ago."

She froze. "Oh."

"And I was wondering why you were here."

"Ah."

"So I decided to come in and ask."

"Hm."

"And then... I just saw you _there_. So I found out you were working here."

"Uh huh."

"And I would like to take you out for dinner."

"**What**?"

"Tonight."

"_No._ I refuse."

Kyouya froze at the sudden rejection. _Well, I wasn't expecting that much of a denial._

She back as far away as she could from him, crossing her arms in front of her in an 'x' shape.

"Haruhi, I'm offering you food," he tempted. "Take it."

Haruhi shook her head vehemently at him, salesgirl act forgotten. "Knowing you, I'd probably be paying for it somehow in the end. Pencils, stolen pictures -- I never know with you! _Chigai._ I decline, _sempai_. Thank you."

"What if I make it worth your while?" he offered, pushing his glasses up in habit.

"What?"

"You said you're being paid on commission. I'll make it so that I'll be making the highest purchase here for this _year_, and the commission will all be yours."

Haruhi stopped, and slowly she asked, "How much were you interested in buying?"

"It depends on what you intend to wear," he said nonchalantly.

"_Excuse me?"_

"You're excused."

She shot him an unimpressed glare.

"No, what do you mean by **that**?"

"I mean, I'm buying underwear in your size."

"_Why?"_

"Because you're probably going to end up wearing it tonight."

She gave him a flat, cold stare.

He gave her his best Host Club smile. "And I'm really interested in _that_ set."

Haruhi felt a cold chill rest between her shoulder blades as he pointed to the mannequin sporting the exact set she was currently wearing.

"It just screams, '_Sex me.'_ Don't you think so, Haruhi?"

"Uhhh..."

He took a step closer toward her. She took a step back.

"See, Haruhi. I've always thought women liked to express themselves in the type of underwear they buy. Like, white cotton always told me the wearers were virgins, and uninterested in _playing_."

Another step forward, another step back.

Their conversation before was instantly forgotten.

"The color black screams to me... silent sexual deviant." Haruhi found herself inching closer to a large, white pillar. One of many scattered throughout the store.

Her back hit the hard wall of the wide pillar.

He pressed her against it, his arm leaning on the wall by her head. Haruhi's throat was dry. "Red lace always told me..." he pressed his body against her rigid frame, "..._tease."_

She swallowed.

"Come to dinner tonight, Haruhi. I promise you, you won't regret it."

----------------------------------------

In the second story window of the _Coach_ boutique across the street from _The Lingerie Store, _a man dressed in blue overalls watched his target converse with a woman of petite stature through the store's glass window. He watched the Ootori slowly push her against a white pillar and he appeared to be talking directly into her ear.

_Or sucking on it. _he thought suddenly.

The Chinese man shook his head to clear the thought from his mind.

His cell phone blinked, a text message sent from the man down the street.

_Do it._

Ootori Kyouya's face lined up within his cross hairs.

His finger gently squeezed the trigger, as the woman suddenly stepped forward to shove Ootori Kyouya backward a look of complete rage ablaze on her face.

Her side profile -- and that look of pure shock and mortification -- was unquestionably familiar.

_Fujioka Haruhi?!_ came his shocked realization, but it was too late.

A single shot fired from the sniper rifle beneath the shooter's body.

-----------------------------------------------

**End Chapter 2. **

**So, thank you very much for the support so far on this story. )  
**


	4. Chapter 3

She opens her eyes and sees the roof is discolored. A tiled roof lies above her, one that was once white, but has now become yellowed with age. There are strange brown circles spotting each rectangle. _Water spots? Mold? _She can't tell.

The tiled ceiling looks familiar. The entire room looks familiar.

And suddenly she knows where she is.

She turns her head, to the side, wanting to understand why there is a dull ache in her chest. The upper left portion of her body is numb. Not very painful, mind you -- just... _numb. _As if she's been punched repeatedly in the chest and pain has finally made room for a sick, warm numbness.

She realizes she is in a hospital dressing gown, and she can move her fingers.

She can move her fingers, and her toes.

So she's not paralyzed.

Just in pain.

It's a good day.

And he is sitting there, in a familiar bedside chair, staring at her.

His hair is mused. His clothes unkempt, wrinkled. He's been there for more than a little while.

"My father worked here once," he tells her, not really knowing why. Guilt, maybe, for being the reason why she was in the hospital.

It's not like a sniper was hired to kill _Fujioka Haruhi. _

She's staring at him. Her skin is paler than usual.

No. Somebody was after _him_, and she got in their way.

"Sempai, why are you here?"

No hi. No hello. No fake warm smiles and strange swooning about him being in the same room as her.

It's a relief, and he begins to realize his deeper attraction toward her.

But why _is _he here? Where is her father? The Hiitachins? Even _Tamaki?_

Why is _he, _of all people, here?

She's still staring at him, her abnormally large eyes unblinking from her thin pillow.

"Because I can," he answers. Then he realizes how straightforward he sounds. "Be here, that is," he tries to clarify.

She's staring at him again, and suddenly nods.

Then she smiles.

Not fake.

A real smile.

He doesn't do that. Smile, that is. _Really smile._

He realizes that he wishes he could.

But he's never had a reason to.

"Thank you, Kyouya-sempai. I appreciate it."

He nods, still staring at her.

Her gaze focuses on the small, white rectangular bandage on his cheek.

"You're hurt, sempai," she states.

He is still for a moment, shocked by what she just said. He tilts his head back and laughs.

He laughs hard. _Truly _laughs.

He hasn't laughed this hard since he decked Tamaki a few years ago in his room for being a retarded idiot, in his humble opinion.

The woman before him was just _shot. _By a bullet meant for him_. At work, no less. _Ripping through sinew, muscle, and breaking bones. Nerves are damaged, displaced. Tissue is broken, to be forever scarred. She could have _died._

_You're hurt, sempai._

"I take it back," she states, a wry, sarcastic lilt staining her voice as she watches his hysterics.

He wipes the tear making its way down his cheek away.

"You're not hurt," she declares. "You're just crazy, _Nelly._"

The American pop culture reference is not lost on him.

He smirks, and pours her a glass of water.

----------------------------

"Mission failed. I'm coming back," a voice crackled through. Bad reception.

"Why, what happened?!" Shock. Disbelief.

Black eyes closed, seemingly exhausted. _I've never failed on an attempt before._

"It seems an unexpected actress has entered our play."

-----------------------------

"You wake him up."

"No, _you_ wake him up."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you're younger than me, and you're supposed to listen to the elder sibling."

"Not if I'm mentally more mature than you."

"_You wish. _Wake him up."

"Umm... no. I'm not _suicidal_. I leave that aspect of the club's personality to _Tono-sempai_."

Kyouya's eyes snapped open at them both.

"I'm awake. And I can _hear you._"

He eyes quickly scanned the patient resting blissfully ignorant before them.

"And _she_ is going to _wake up_ if you are any louder." _Doubtful. The drugs will knock her out for the next few hours.._

The twins shut up effectively.

"We brought flowers?" Kaoru offered sheepishly, motioning to the large bouquet of floral lilies in Hikaru's hands, before taking them and setting them down on the counter nearby.

"How is she?" one of them asked.

"Better," Kyouya replied, all trace of sleepiness leaving his body. He reached for a business magazine that has been left open on the table near him.

A placated look of calm descended on both of the twins' features.

"Good, good," one of the redheads murmured to himself.

The other slid to the end of Haruhi's bed and began flipping through her medical chart enclosed in grey.

"Glass embedded in abdominopelvic cavity removed? _Post surgery recovery?_" the twin read unfamiliar words aloud, his voice hitting an incredulous tone with the final words. He suddenly snapped the binder shut and leveled a burning glare at the Ootori. Kyouya could feel it without even looking up from the pages of his magazine.

"It was a minor procedure. The real problem is the wound in her chest."

"About that..." Kaoru trailed, the room becoming a few degrees chillier .

"So Kyouya-sempai," began Hikaru in a decidedly aggressive manner.

"Do you mind telling us how Haruhi was _nearly __**killed**__--" _Kaoru continued.

"--while _shopping--_"

"_--with __**you**_**--**" one added, as if the next line wasn't as disbelievable as this one.

"--by a _sniper_ of all possible things?!" they hysterically finished together, pointing at Kyouya accusingly.

"Hikaru. Kaoru." He stated calmly. They both shot him burning stares, intent on some answers.

"Right now, I can't answer that." His tone became edgier and the angry sparks leaping from the twins' eyes calmed, if but for a moment with his next statement, "But when I can, someone is going to _pay."_

----------------------------

"Hikaru and Kaoru visited you earlier today," he immediately said as he noticed the signs of alertness in her eyes. She roused from her afternoon nap, fighting the urge to stretch out her arms in fear of accidentally putting strain on her injuries. He continued to work into his laptop, finishing his typing. Draft letters. Affidavits. Legal documents.

Business, business, business.

Is visiting her every day just part of his every day business?

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"The doctor said you needed to rest. The anesthesia from the surgery needed to wear off."

"How long did the twins stay for?" she asked, beginning to sit up. She tried to hide her wince as she pulled the stitches in her abdomen, and Kyouya tried to pretend it didn't happen.

_"We're not leaving until you tell us _everything _that happened," the twins declared as they pulled two stools out and sat directly in front of him, glaring and waiting for him to begin. He resignedly sighed, and began to tell the greatly revised story sans Haruhi working at _The Lingerie Store _and sans him telling her to come to dinner and sans... well, most of the events that preceded the shooting, actually._

"Just a few minutes." he lied. _More like an hour. _"They left when they figured out the only person they'd be able to speak with was me." _And after giving me an earful of their mind and panicked concerns._

"Oh."

"You're father finally returned my calls," he began. "He'll be here in the morning. Why didn't you tell us he was out of town?" he asked, curiously. Usually Renka informed Kyouya of the happenings and going in the Fujioka family without Haruhi knowing. But this information he had not been privy to.

Haruhi sighed, rolling her eyes. "Because the twins and Tamaki would have invited themselves over the instant they found out."

"You're very smart, did you know that?" he teased, catching himself at the last moment. Amazed. At himself.

"So people tell me," she nonchalantly shrugged, before laughing lightly.

"Oh, they brought you some snacks by the way," Kyouya added, lifting the silver lid to a large, filigreed platter a fraction of an inch. "But we have to be careful. You're not allowed to have solid food right now, but we can plan for tomorrow."

"Oooh! What did they bring?" Haruhi asked with a little excitement. Food was always a high point in her life.

"Otoro."

Her eyes widened considerably.

"But since _you_ can't eat it, I guess I'm the only one who _can,_" he said deviously, lifting the lid clean off and exposing the fair amount of fatty tuna sushi before the patient.

"_SEMPAI! That is __**so**__ unfair!"_

"Nothing in this world is ever fair, Haruhi. You would do well to remember that," he said casually, before popping a roll into his mouth.

He looked down at Haruhi after he began chewing and suddenly his mouth went dry. The look of want and dismay on Haruhi's face nearly made him drop the tray in his other hand.

He closed his eyes, and stated something that went against all his beliefs and morals.

"But I'm sure one wouldn't hurt," he stated softly, before taking a piece of the sushi and delicately slid it into her mouth. Her lips lightly touched his fingers, and the sensation of her soft lips on his skin made him stiff _all_ over.

"Mmm..." she moaned, deliciously happy.

Kyouya enjoyed that more than he knew he should have.

------------------------------

He hasn't visited her in a week.

His pace speeds up as Italian leather shoes snap along the aged, tiled floor.

It seems this place has gotten cleaner since the last time he's been here.

No doubt due to his increased presence in the hospital.

No one wants to disrespect the son of Ootori Yoshio, the man who basically made this hospital what is currently is.

But if Kyouya had simply been the simple son of a simple man... no one would be waxing the floors for his approval.

He slides open the door, and there is a man in her room.

A man who is not him. Or her father. Or anyone from the host club.

**Competition?**

And she's awake, upright, and laughing.

Kyouya is not jealous. No, he is not.

It's the man she hugged from the Lingerie Store.

His eyebrows narrow for a fraction of a second, before he pushes his glasses further up his nose and smiles with fake warmth. She turns to him, and waves. Haruhi's smile falters for a fraction of a second, but she beams as she introduced Kyuoya to the newcomer.

"Kyouya, let me introduce you to Dante. He went to the same junior high school as me."

"Not to mention I'm the son of your boss, so you have to be nice to me." And then he _smiled,_ and all Kyouya could see was whiteness and teeth. _Real. A real smile._

"You wish, you spoiled brat."

"_Hey!_ I thought we agreed on no more low money blows?"

"Well, I don't have much to fall back on with all your teasing."

This light banter was hurting Kyouya's head.

_Not to mention I'm the son of your boss. _His eyebrows narrowed by fractions of a centimeter.

Tenoh Dante. Son of CEO and Chairman of World Textiles Incorporated. Son of Tenoh Ren, world renowned exporter of Asian textiles and fabrics. Establisher of many luxury clothing chains, including one called _The Lingerie Store. _

_Son of your boss, indeed_. Haruhi's father clearly knew how to pick his boyfriends.

He pasted on his best smile. First impressions always mattered.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Ootori Kyouya."

The handshake was firm. Strong. Powerful.

_Competition._

And he doesn't appear to recognize the Ootori name. Perfect.

"Nice to meet you as well. I'm Tenoh Dante." _I know._

Haruhi doesn't like Kyouya's smile.

_Business, business, business._

_----------------------------_

"Did you hear about what happened to Ootori's children?" Ester Thomas said excitedly to her companion dressed in blue pinstripe. Tenoh Ren shook his head, taking a large mouthful of white wine from his glass.

"Someone tried to kill them!"

Ren fought to keep from spewing the liquid in his mouth all over the ballroom floor. He tried to swallow, but instead sent out several hacking coughs as it tricked down the wrong pipe.

"I heard one of them died," Ester whispered eagerly.

Ren's eyes shot open. "_**No**_. You're kidding."

"That's what I heard. I'm shocked though."

"Shocked at what?"

"Well, to go against the Ootoris, you may as well be dead. Ootori is pretty big in the national defense department. They have eyes _everywhere_. The party involved in this will probably get tracked down easily." Ester squeezed the napkin in her hand tightly, the small appetizer on her plate forgotten. She was giddy with delight. To be the one with all the details.

"When did this happen?" Ren asked, nearly shaking her for more information.

"Early afternoon. Umm, a few days ago I believe. There were two shootings. One was on the university campus and the other one was in Century Hill. They're trying to keep it low profile, but how low profile can you get if the most exclusive places in this area were practically _war zones_. But I heard that the son in shopping incident escaped practically unharmed."

"I thought you said one of them died?"

"Yeah. I think it was the second child. The one in medical school."

"What about the first one?"

"I haven't heard anything about him yet."

"Wow, that's simply _unbelievable_. I can't actually believe someone tried to assassinate Ootori's offspring."

"Why wouldn't you?" Ester questioned, surprised at Ren's ignorance.

"What do you mean?" Ren replied, his gaze curious.

"Well, just between you and me," Ester gaze a quick glance to either side of her before continuing, "I heard that Ootori's been dealing more heavily with the Japanese government. He's monopolizing the industry -- and other companies are getting angry. He's downsizing greatly the cost it needs for medical aid and equipment and much of the government health administration is passing through his company to deal with health concerns throughout the county."

"Wow, business for Ootori-san must be amazing right now. I've been out of touch with Ootori-san for a while, but I had no idea how great his ties were with government officials."

"Well, it's not everyday that Minister Kawamurata appears to social business gatherings." Ester gave a pointed stare to the government official surrounded by a throng of business men and woman intent on conversing with him.

Ren scanned the room and gave an appreciating glance toward the numerous attending guards dressed in black suits, flesh coloured earpieces stringing from their heads. Their careful attendance of the party was quite observable from the guests. But despite that, Ren felt more alert than put at ease.

"But can you believe Ootori-san is out there, greeting guests, if his son just _died?_" Ester said, blatant disgust on her face. "I know that man is cold as ice, but still, his family should come first before all else."

"Maybe his son didn't die," Ren tried to reason. "It might have just been a rumor."

"Well, I only see his eldest son up and about. Where's the youngest one? Kenji, right? I can never remember that third son's name..."

-------------------------------

"I haven't seen you smile like that in a while, you know," Haruhi says, staring directly into grey eyes. Accusingly, as if he's done something wrong.

"Smile like what?" he replies, already knowing what she's referring to. But she's mistaken. He hasn't done anything wrong.

"You juxtapose your smile. It's large, warm -- but so cold, sempai. And fake."

_Stop calling me sempai._

He pushes his glasses up farther from the bridge of his nose.

"I think you're mistaken," he says softly. The sunlight through the window is reflecting off his lenses, and Haruhi can't see his eyes.

"How am I mistaken?" she asks softly.

"I smile the way I've smiled all my life, Haruhi."

He doesn't know how to smile any other way.

"You're wrong. You smile differently here. When we're alone. Or when it's just the host club. It's not fake."

His tone is dangerously cold.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Haruhi suddenly realizes that she's treading on thin ice. She doesn't care.

"I know exactly what I'm talking about. Why are there so many walls, sempai?" she asks forcefully, fists tightly bunching her sheets.

"Walls?" he parrots, testing the word on his tongue.

"Yes, _**walls.**_ You're surrounded by a fortress of bricks. And we're constantly banging on the only door available to us. It hurts... you know? But sometimes, just _sometimes_, you'll open up that door and let us just _peek_ in. For short moments at a time. But not long enough," she says, her analogy hitting him like a bag full of the bricks he's cemented around himself.

"You barely know me. How dare you presume to think you understand my life at all?" He is angry. Scared. Troubled by the fact that he hasn't heard them knocking at his door at all.

"I don't, sempai. I don't presume to know you at all. But I'm learning about you. Small bits and pieces. And I'd like to know more."

He's struck dumb for a moment, uncomprehending of what she's asking from him.

"I want to know more than this _wall_ always before me. But when you're with me here, I feel as if I've finally found a window in your expanse, Kyouya. And I'm finally able to see a little bit into you."

He feels uncomfortable, as if he should suddenly switch into his "host" mode to fulfill her wish.

His host mode. A fake. Full of fake smiles, fake laughs, and empty, fake promises.

But that's not what he wants.

That's not what _she_ wants.

He gets up slowly from his seat, straightening his tall, lean legs.

Haruhi is forced to crane her neck back to stare at him, pulling on her wound, making her visibly wince.

He walks towards to door to the room and slides it open.

"You don't know what you're asking for," he says loud enough for her to hear him as he leaves without even a backward glance, doesn't realize that the ice has cracked and she's slowly drowning underneath the frozen water.

It's only later that evening that he realizes she didn't call him sempai.

-----------------------------------

"You didn't come to the gala," his father mentions over dinner. Casually. Coldly. As if he's forgotten the fact that his son was almost killed.

"I apologize," Kyouya says monotonously, slicing with more force into his chicken breast than he'd care to admit.

"_Father. He was __**in the hospital**_." Fuyumi seethes through her teeth, glaring at her father with disbelieving eyes. "For almost being shot." _Because of you and __**your **__work. _

"But he _wasn't_ shot. Only an employee at the _woman's underwear store_ he was shopping at was injured heavily. Not him." The embarrassment Kyouya was feeling that his father had discovered where he had nearly been killed was overshadowed by the coldness his father showed him at the fact he almost died. He was angry. He rarely became angry.

But what did it matter anyway? He was only the _third_ son.

"And this shooting was during the afternoon a few days previous," Ootori Yoshio continued. "He could have made it to the evening events if he chose to."

"But _father. _You can't really be angry on the fact that he--"

"**Fuyumi.**" Their father interrupted suddenly, his voice booming. "Don't you dare speak back to me ever again." His voice is as effective as a slap against her face.

"Yes, father. I apologize, father." Fuyumi said quietly. Submissively.

_I apologize. _That sentence was such a staple statement in this household.

"The only one that needed medical intervention was your brother. And he's going to be fine. He has only the best working for him." Working _for _him. Not _on _him.

"You are no longer an Ootori. You are married, and under your husband's claim. But I am your father. I am your absolute."

Money can buy everything. It brought Kyouyas brother back from the edge of death.

The Ootori family finished their dinner in silence.

-----------------------------------

He can't get her out of his thoughts. And he can't believe this _regret_ panging through him every time he remembers the last words he said to her as he walked out of her hospital room two days ago.

_"You don't know what you're asking for."_

Kyouya gazes over the wreckage of the place where he could have possibly _died._ Despite his close encounter with a bullet and his head, his heart doesn't beat furiously nor does he have a very flustered mindset.

He is calm.

Too calm, for a person who has almost been murdered.

Although, under the current circumstances involving his father and the recent endeavors they had negotiated with the Japanese government, it wouldn't be a far cry to term this as a failed assassination attempt either. He needs answers, and his father will never tell him. He needs to do some digging.

But Kyouya hates getting his hands dirty.

So he goes back to St. Patrick's hospital.

With regrets.

And for once in his life, he's sorry about what he said.

But he knows he was not in the wrong.

And he won't change for another person.

He doesn't believe that change will help him very much.

But he'll show them to a window. Even if it's only enough to let them peer into his life. To see what they are getting themselves into.

"I'm sorry, Ootori-sama. But the patient you're looking for was discharged two days ago."

-----------------------------------

The sunset has painted the sky in colors of soft orchard, and the air is warm and heavy as he steps out into the evening setting. The car door behind him quietly shuts as his driver stands off to the side, paid to do nothing but drive and open doors.

With money that could be used to do other things.

Aid world hunger. Contribute to the search for a cure for a cancer. Buy a prosthetic limb for a young family that can't afford one for their child.

Money that Haruhi would give up in a heartbeat to do exactly all that.

But not tonight.

Tonight he would like to lavish in his wealth, and bathe in its luxuries.

He is young, talented, and good looking. But most of all, rich.

Money has gotten him very far in a world that publicly proclaims riches can't buy a man everything.

But only a fool in this world would refuse any offer he would propose to them. Because Ootori Kyouya, despite his young age, has the power to make dreams come true.

And he can even buy happiness, if the person plays their cards correctly.

He climbs up the flight of old, rusted stairs in the condominium complex and knocks on the third door down without a second thought.

The beige coloured metal door opens and reveals her in a loose shirt and drawstring pants.

A far cry from his dream with her in nothing by rouge lingerie.

"Have dinner with me," he says, repeating the demand he had said to her moments before a bullet came screaming through a display room window, sending glass flying everywhere and screams to fill the streets. Before a bullet had entered the body standing before him and physically flung her off her feet and into _him, _simple from the force of the impact. Seconds before he had breathed in her scent and told her red underwear made the wearer a _tease._

Only a fool would accept any offer blatantly proposed by him without a second thought, and with that fact in mind, the smartest woman he had ever known in his life closed her front door in front of his face without saying a word.

**End chapter.**

----------------------

I started writing this chapter in present tense without realizing it, but after going through it a couple times, it fits the new mood of the story. I feel like this originally fun, comedic piece has hit a more serious note, and I feel that a more serious tone is needed to be able to make this story grow. To allow the characters to grow.

I played with the feelings that present and past tense can create. Tell me how you guys liked or disliked the present tense in this chapter.

I hope you guys enjoyed the latest chapter, and please continue to support it. Your reviews have really inspired me to keep this story going. Like, _really_. I enjoy the reviews that have a bit more substance and flavor, so thanks to everyone that gave me longer input and comments in the reviews.

I'm a first year nursing student with a lot of studying to do, so if you feel like this story hasn't been updated in a while, feel free to hassle me on my LJ. I enjoy it.

PS: This chapter is dedicated to ficcingwitch from LJ. The fact that you asked me to finish was actually a big push to make me put out this chapter.

_Kolinshar._


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